The Dark of Night
by Kwan Li
Summary: Gilderoy Lockhart was a flailing graduate, unable to accomplish any of his life goals. Drowning himself into a stupor in a pub in the middle of nowhere, he receives a strange invitation from the Silver-Eyed Man to accompany him on a quest. What he experiences changes him forever. Pre-Hogwarts.
1. Sir Dunstan Wilkinson

Gilderoy Lockhart sat upon a stool in a dinghy bar, staring miserably at the amber liquid contained within the dirty and stained glass. The bartender washed a glass idly, rubbing at an already clean spot over and over while leaving the rest of the glass dirtied. It was a small pub with just a few tables and barely enough room to hold more than twenty. The overhead lamps were dim, casting an unnaturally yellow glow about them. There were but a few people in the pub, all within listening distance if they wished, but none approached the blonde man.

"Another!" Gilderoy slurred at the bartender. The bartender looked at him disapprovingly, but refilled his drink nonetheless.

"You think you've had enough, lad?" the bartender said with a slight Scottish tilt.

Gilderoy swirled the drink in his mug, drowning himself in its cool depths. The beer was foul, barely stronger than Butterbeer, but it was cheap and Gilderoy couldn't afford anything more.

Scoffing, Gilderoy looked up at the bartender with contempt, "They told me they had enough at the Auror academy when they didn't accept me. They told me they had enough at the Ministry when they couldn't find a _suitable_ position for me. So, no, I don't think I've had _enough_."

Knocking the drink back in one hearty gulp, Gilderoy slammed the cup down on the table, splashing the last dregs.

"Another!"

The bartender winced and shook his head, no doubt seeing such gluttony several times, but he could not turn away any coin, not in these times, so he poured yet another for the drunken man.

As the bartender stalked off, Gilderoy looked at the mirror adjacent to the bar. His hair was a tangled mess, a far cry from its usual perfection, and the red rims around his eyes could either be from tears or drunkenness.

_Perhaps they are the same thing_, Gilderoy thought as examined his reflection. He was a handsome man, that much he knew, and didn't understand why the Aurors didn't accept him even if he had failed every test. He couldn't understand why the Ministry didn't even allow him a secretarial position. No doubt he could find some middle aged matron who was fed up with her oaf of an husband and woo her into his arms. No, Gilderoy Lockhart understood very little of why he was in a tavern, drowning himself in dank beer.

He was a Ravenclaw, though you may have never known it by his OWL's and NEWT's, and suspected he would easily find a job once he graduated from Hogwarts. Yet, that was three years past and all he had were several Knuts, a few Sickles, and too few Galleons. There was no rhyme nor reason for why he wasn't accepted for a job. Did they fear his temerity? Did they envy his handsomeness?

Those were the questions Gilderoy asked himself as the world spun a little faster and the lights shined a little brighter. It was not yet dusk, but Gilderoy reckoned he was as pissed as his father used to be.

_Like father, like son_.

The thought bitterly ran across his mind, but he couldn't help himself and had another glass, no doubt approaching the limit where the bartender would simply cast him out of the pub.

_Let him! What is yet another rejection?_

The door suddenly creaked open, the last vestiges of the setting sun casting an orange hue over the midsection of the bar. In stepped a tall man, taller than Gilderoy, of dark, tangled hair. His beard was cut close, a freckle of darkness spread along his neck and his jaw. It was his eyes that captured Gilderoy's attention, piercing silver orbs that were glowing even in the darkened tavern. If there were ladies around, they might have concerned him handsome in a roguish way, what with the scar that was barely hidden within the scruff of his beard.

The stranger looked around, a sly grin on his face as he absorbed the characters within the pub. His eyes landed on Gilderoy and the blonde only glared at the man's boldness to step within the bar while he was sulking. The dark haired man walked towards him, a jingling underneath his robes, and took the stool besides Gilderoy.

Up close, his silver eyes glowed even brightly, not unlike a wolf. He was a bit older than Gilderoy, in his early thirties if he had to guess, but still had a young, weathered face. A quick examination of his robes told Gilderoy that the man was a traveler, judging by the faded ends and the ornate linings. They were foreign to this country, no doubt somewhere from the East.

"They say a man only drinks when he is heavy or light of heart. Of which are you?" the man spoke, his low voice thrumming with amusement.

"Take a guess," Gilderoy bitterly spat, not caring for the man's coquettishness.

"You must be of light of heart with such a bright face," the man waggled his eyebrows at him.

Gilderoy shook his head, "If you want fairies, they're down the road. I suspect they'll be much more accepting to your kind there."

The man leaned back and roared with laughter, his Adam's apple bobbing gaily in the dim lighting. Gilderoy shuffled his stool a little farther away, displeased by the disturbance. Who did the man think he was? Why couldn't he just let Gilderoy wallow in peace?

"You mistake me," the man finally said after his laughter settled, "I'm not trying to buy you a drink. I'm simply asking why a man of such obvious talent is keeping company with an old, cranky bartender? Speaking of which…old man! Fetch me a drink."

The bartender narrowed his eyes at the silver-eyed stranger and answered, "Of what kind would please you?" The sarcasm rolled off the bartender's tongue.

Not put off, the stranger replied, "Give me your finest ale and a pint for my friend here."

Gilderoy bristled, both at the contention that he was talented and that he was this man's friend. "I am no friend of yours."

The light caught the man's eyes and the deviousness within them was all too evident.

"Not yet."

There was something curious to this man and Gilderoy was suddenly conscious of his wand pressed against his hip. He didn't move to retrieve it but took certain note of where it was and how quickly he could grab it. The dark haired man was mercifully silent for a moment as he waited for the old bartender to retrieve a drink. The old man came back, sliding two pints of considerably better looking ale down the bar towards them. The stranger flicked a Galleon, a price too much, to the bartender and told him to keep it.

Passing the spare glass to Gilderoy, the man spoke, "Drink this. I wager its of finer quality than the drink you have in your hand."

Gilderoy was not about to turn down free drinks, so he took the drink with a grumbled thanks and immediately sipped its contents. The stranger was right. This drink was much smoother and less harsh on his throat.

"Normally a man would give much greater thanks for such an offering," the man pointed out.

Gilderoy was tired of this strange person and swiveled in his seat to face him front. The other man mirrored his movement, happy that he was finally acknowledged.

"Thank you for the drink, _stranger_, but as I said, I'm for women, not men," Gilderoy pleaded with the man to leave him alone.

"As am I!" the man was not put off, "I only buy you a drink to offer you condolences for your loss. Who was it? A fallen parent? A lost sibling? Or worse yet, a woman whisked away by another?"

"My future," Gilderoy sullenly answered.

"The worst of all," the man nodded solemnly, "There is no greater pain than looking forward and seeing nothing but darkness."

"And what would you know?" Gilderoy had noticed he overpaid the bartender, most likely on purpose.

"I would know more than you think," the man offered slyly, "Would you like to know, Mister…"

Gilderoy looked at him sideways. Honestly, he wanted to be left alone, but he was already talking to the man and if he could somehow squeeze out another drink, perhaps the minor annoyance would be worth it. Merlin knows he didn't have the coin to drink all night.

"…Lockhart. Gilderoy Lockhart. And you?"

"Sir Dunstan Wilkinson."

Gilderoy scoffed, "You are no Sir. Sirs are for Muggles. There are only Wizards, Masters, and Mages."

"Yet here I am," Dunstan swept his arm dramatically, "A Sir _and_ a Wizard."

"And how'd you come about that?" Gilderoy scoffed disbelievingly.

"During The Troubles," Dunstan started.

"Hold on! You were involved in The Troubles?" Gilderoy raised a skeptical eyebrow.

The Troubles, a civil unrest that spilled into the Wizarding World, was just a few years ago. If Dunstan was indeed knighted during that time, it would have made him a very young knight. Gilderoy continued to listen with a healthy dose of skepticism.

"Aye, I was! They had trouble catching some of the more nasty bastards, most prominently, the Bastard of Shankill. I approached the Muggles, claiming to be a loyalist defector, and offered them an opportunity to kill a high ranking agent. They enlisted me in their service, but they didn't know how I was going to find their hideout and slip it to the Bastard. I told them to leave it to me. A month, and a carefully brewed Polyjuice Potion, later, the Bastard of Shankill was dead. Her Royal Majesty knighted me herself."

"You killed him?"

Dunstan Wilkinson leaned forward, the light gleaming off his cold, silver eyes. Up close, Gilderoy could see the scar that ran down the inseam of his beard on the left side of his face. It was about two inches long and only slightly faded. Dunstan may have been attractive, but the scar gave him a dangerous look. Gilderoy leaned away and took a sip of the fine beer.

"I did. I've killed lots of men."

As possibly implausible his story may be, Gilderoy didn't really see any reason to doubt him. Sure, he was boasting, but he was in the company of Wizards and probably didn't care if they knew he fooled the Muggles.

Dunstan continued, "After that, I set afoot East. I killed a vampire in Bulgaria by tricking him and luring him out of his cave while it was daylight. I got this thing for that task," Dunstan pulled open his heavy outer cloak to reveal a thick dagger of incredibly sharp steel, "Then I traveled farther East to Egypt where I killed a scorpion the size of a horse. The Prince of Egypt was so grateful that he granted me this family heirloom," he pointed to the cloak, "It is said that it is impervious to destruction."

Gilderoy eyed the thick cloak with the ornate drawings. It seemed authentic enough, even if the story of a scorpion the size of a horse was utterly ridiculous. Dunstan was drinking from his mug, draining its contents with a few large gulps and Gilderoy was struck by how big he was. He certainly fit the bill as an adventurer extraordinaire.

"You're from around here though, aren't you?" Gilderoy dared to ask.

"Went to Hogwarts, probably a few years before you did," Dunstan squinted as he sized Gilderoy up, "House of Slytherin."

His eyebrows shot up at that statement, immediately wary of someone from Slytherin. There were few Slytherins that escaped You-Know-Who's recruitment if what Dunstan said was true. Gilderoy carefully slipped his cloak back and laid a hand on his wand. While the movement was meant to be discreet, Dunstan immediately caught it but smiled instead of reaching for his own wand.

"You think I'm some Death Eater?" Dunstan asked.

"There were lots of Slytherins that went that way," Gilderoy felt his hand shaking from fear, "How do I know you're not just winding me up with these stories."

Dunstan slammed his mug down, making Gilderoy jump in his seat. Gilderoy flushed, embarrassed that he was scared so easily. Dunstan could only laugh, even more amused by the other man's behavior.

"If I was a Death Eater, I would've killed you all and set the Dark Mark over this place as soon as I set foot in here. No, I've fought my fair share of Death Eaters and killed my fair share as well. I'm no friend of You-Know-Who," Dunstan casually informed him.

Once again, he seemed genuine enough. Dunstan seemed to have a gift for presenting a truthful front and nothing about him made his story false. Still, anyone from Slytherin during the heavy recruitment classes couldn't be trusted so easily. Gilderoy was about to create some excuse so the man would leave him alone, but it seemed that the only person who liked the sound of their own voice more than Gilderoy was Dunstan.

"And what about you, blondie? What House were you in?" Dunstan asked.

"Ravenclaw," Gilderoy begrudgingly answered.

"Ahh…one of the smart ones."

"You'd think so."

"Life after Hogwarts not everything you hoped for?" Once again, Dunstan seemed genuinely concerned, frowning as he leaned over the bar to get a better look at Gilderoy's face.

Gilderoy shrugged, not wanting to reveal too much to the older man, but he couldn't help himself. His mother always told him he was a bit vain. His father…the less said about his father, the better.

"No one seems to know my talent! My _genius_! They just pass me over for some Hufflepuff that won an award here or washed someone's table there. Here I am, full of imagination and ideas for the Ministry, and they keep passing me over and over again. The Aurors, those incompetent fools, wouldn't know talent if someone cursed them with it. I just feel so…so…"

"Underappreciated?"

Gilderoy didn't realize the frustration that had built up within him and here he was, confessing it to some stranger that was supposedly a knight. Yet, he felt he could trust Dunstan. He was kind, but dangerous. Adventurous, yet contained. Helpful, yet boastful. In short, he was everything Gilderoy wanted to be.

Dunstan was looking upon him curiously, leaning back and examining him as if he were some House-Elf. He was contemplating something, stroking his beard thoughtfully as he continued to stare at him with those cold, silver eyes.

"What?" Gilderoy was growing mildly irritated by the extensive examination.

Dunstan nodded to himself as if he received the answer he was looking for. He made a show of looking around but was apparently satisfied. He leaned forward, an interested gleam in his eyes as he lowered his voice to a whisper.

"I think it's time you start being appreciated," Dunstan said.

"It's been past that time already," Gilderoy agreed.

"So let's do something about that," Dunstan grinned, "What if I told you, in the dark of night, there are unconceivable amounts of treasure not four days journey from here. So much treasure that no one dare under appreciate you again."

Maybe it was the possibility of adventure. Maybe it was his forlorn future. Maybe it was revenge for being passed up of all those jobs. Maybe it was simply the alcohol. But Gilderoy Lockhart leaned in forward and replied with a grin on his face.

"When do we leave?"

* * *

_I regret this. I immediately regret this_.

They had retrieved supplies from the inn where Dunstan was staying as well as from the apothecary and other stores in the small village. Most of it was food, provisions they needed since there were supposedly few villages between here and the supposed treasure. Dunstan stored it in his Bottomless Bag, an item he procured for saving a desert merchant in Tunisia from a pit of vipers.

"Honestly? A pit of vipers?" Gilderoy had asked when he heard the story.

"Thousands of them," Dunstan excitedly repeated, "The merchant was a Squib, but I charmed the vipers with a spell."

Gilderoy could only roll his eyes, yet he had nothing to disprove Dunstan's story. He had several items he wanted to take with him and a back story for each one. He won a special telescope that could see through the night from a pirate in Somalia. He stole boots from the Taj Mahal that allowed him to walk on water. Gilderoy knew there was some notion of exaggeration to these stories, but until Dunstan stepped into a lake and fell through, he had no way of disproving him.

"Now listen closely Gilderoy. The path I learned takes us straight through the mountains. There's nary a village from here to there so be prepared to fight off any stragglers," Dunstan said as they gathered the last of their belongings.

"Stragglers?" Gilderoy asked.

"Yes. I'm not the only one in search for loot and glory," Dunstan shook his head and double checked the dagger he kept on his hip, "There'll be several wanderers looking for more than just food if you catch my drift."

Gilderoy gulped. He was never the best at Defence Against the Dark Arts. Still, if half of what Dunstan said was true, he'd have ample enough back-up to face any unsavory characters. For good measure, Gilderoy made sure to bring along his wrist holster he bought when he was training for the Aurors.

"If there's all this treasure just four days from here, how come no one else has tried to take it?" Gilderoy wondered as Dunstan threw in a loaf of bread in his Bottomless Bag.

"People have _tried_ to take it," Dunstan pointed out, "The treasure only appears in the dark and many people have to tried to take it…not realizing there's a dragon waiting in the shadows. Luckily, if the trader has any truth to him, and he better or else I'll cut out his tongue, the key is to take the treasure by day. The dragon has to sleep some time."

"I bet that's what the last person thought before he got burnt to crisp," Gilderoy grumbled.

Dunstan could only smile wryly, "There's no adventure if there's no danger."

"Family motto?"

"You could say that."

Dunstan didn't continue the conversation after that, opting to tuck in for the night even though it was barely ten. He explained there was a long journey ahead and wanted to catch up on as much sleep as he could before the arduous path. Gilderoy tried to sleep as well, but he was too wound up and excited. People had chosen what he perceived to be lesser qualified individuals for mundane jobs, yet here he was, about to retrieve treasure from a dragon. Thinking about the Aurors that made his life hell during training, Gilderoy snorted, hoping he could flaunt the money in their faces when he returned. Eventually, he fell asleep, dreaming of drowning himself in Galleons while a dragon lay beheaded before him.

Dunstan kicked him awake before the sun was breaking. He said it would be cooler and spied storm clouds on the horizon the day before. Suspecting they would be in for a case of afternoon storms, Dunstan wanted to set out and cover as much ground as possible before they were besieged by weather.

"Why don't we just Apparate?" Gilderoy complained, his feet already straining from the walk.

"You can only Apparate if you know where you're going, you fool!" Dunstan heartily laughed as he walked ahead of him, "When's the last time you were in a dragon's lair?"

"We could Apparate somewhere _close_."

Dunstan only shook his head, giving Gilderoy a condescending smile, "I saw a man try to Apparate into the mountains once. Didn't catch the right spot and Apparated straight onto a cliff side. They couldn't decide whether it was the fall or the Splinching that did his limbs apart."

Gilderoy shut up after that.

He carried with him a sleeping bag and the duffel that contained the magically enlarging tent. It fit into the duffel slung across his back but supposedly expanded into a ten by ten living space.

"Don't tell me…you won it from a goblin in a card game," Gilderoy proposed an outlandish story when Dunstan told him what he would be carrying.

"No," Dunstan looked at him in confusion, "I bought it at a store."

Dunstan carried his Bottomless Bag, his impervious cloak, his wand, and the dagger at his hip. When Gilderoy asked what use a dagger would be in a duel, Dunstan could only reply that waving his wand and screaming _Avada Kedavra_ usually raised a bit of attention. He said that a dagger was much stealthier. Gilderoy took care to walk a bit farther away from him after that.

They walked well into the day, stopping only for water and lunch. True to his forecast, the storm clouds appeared during mid-day, the dark clouds racing over the landscape and covering the land in shadows and rain. Dunstan climbed onto a large rock and squinted into the distance.

This was supposedly the easy leg of their journey. It was mostly rolling hills and flatlands. Up ahead were grassy mountains and uneven land. They were probably a half a day from reaching the base of the mountain range and Gilderoy was already dreading the climb.

"We'll go as far as we can and then make camp for the night," Dunstan informed him, "With any luck, we'll beat out the rain and make camp at the base."

"And if we don't have any luck?" Gilderoy couldn't help but ask.

"We'll have to continue walking in the rain."

Gilderoy sped up after that, ignoring the pains along his feet and shin. They were making good progress, but the storm refused to let them escape. They were still a good distance away from the base of the mountains when the deluge started. The rain pounded heavily on them, and Gilderoy did not have the luxury of an impervious cloak like Dunstan. He was as wet as a rat, dragging along the duffel that seemed heavier by the minute.

"Dunstan! How much longer?" Gilderoy cried through the downpour.

Dunstan didn't answer, but raced to a small cliff buff and looked over the edge. Gilderoy hurriedly followed him to see what captured the older man's interest. He spotted it in an instance, a bright hope in the dark storm.

It was a small house with a fence of crops beside it. The smoking chimney and the bright lights in the windows indicated there was definitely someone inside. Looking around, Gilderoy could see nothing but grass and hills to either side of the house.

"You think they'll let us in during the storm?" Gilderoy asked.

"Unlikely," Dunstan replied, "They get lots of strangers around these areas and they're not going to be letting in a pair of them even with those pearly whites of yours."

"Oh come off it!" Gilderoy was annoyed by the jab at his teeth, "They have to let us in! I bet they have a warm fire in there!"

"And a man that's not afraid to blow us away," Dunstan wearily answered, "We'll make camp up here for the night and then go down there if the rain lets up during the day. They'll be more receptive to us without the storm making us look like a couple Death Eaters."

Gilderoy wanted to protest but it was no use. He wasn't going down to the house with Dunstan and if there was a man that was used to fending off drifters, he didn't want to take him on without Dunstan behind him. Finding a small overhang to set up camp underneath, Gilderoy unfolded the magically expanding tent and found out that Dunstan was telling the truth. He stepped inside the tent and found two beds and enough room to easily accommodate him both.

Dunstan stepped inside after him and smiled at the surroundings, "It's no hearthside fire, but good enough for the night."

They ate dinner, splitting a few beef strips and potatoes. Gilderoy started a fire at the center to warm them up, but sound found the heat suffocating within the tent. He doused the fire and was content with the slightly warm and burnt air.

Dunstan hopped in bed but didn't turn over like he did the other night. He looked at Gilderoy, his silver eyes piercing through the darkness and spoke.

"So why'd you come with me, Gilderoy? You'd have to be a little mad to be chasing after a dragon even if there is treasure involved."

"Don't tell _if _there's treasure involved. If there's no treasure involved, I don't care how many merchants you've saved, I'm having your head as well," Gilderoy was only half-joking. He wasn't sure if he could do _anything_ if there was no treasure.

"Don't worry, there's plenty," Dunstan chuckled, "But honestly, why'd you come with me? I'm sure you could've found some sort of job."

Gilderoy lay silent for a moment, wondering why he had come himself. True, in all likelihood, he would find some menial job at the Ministry and work his way up, but he felt as if he deserved more. He was a good looking bloke, member of the Quidditch team, and while he didn't have nearly as high marks as his fellow Ravenclaws, he had a different sort of guile about him. Yet, all his first offers were refused, none stinging more than the Auror rejection.

"I wanted to make a name for myself. I wanted to be more than just another Hogwarts graduate. I want my names plastered all over the papers for everyone to see," Gilderoy smiled in the dark, imagining _Gilderoy Lockhart_ as the Daily Prophet headline.

"So its fame," Dunstan nodded in the dark, "Fame's an finicky thing. You chase it long enough and you forget to pick up the things along the way."

Gilderoy shrugged, "It's better than being normal."

Dunstan sat up and flicked a light on with his wand to stare at the other man, "Aye, that is. You're a smart one. It shouldn't surprise me. You are a Ravenclaw."

Gilderoy could only shrug but was pleased with the compliment. "My father always told me I'd be normal. Guess I want to prove him wrong."

"Fathers can be right bastards like that."

"You have no idea."

"I don't?" Dunstan scoffed, "Try me."

He hesitated. He didn't know whether or not he could tell Dunstan about his family life. Yet, here he was chasing a dragon with the other man. If Gilderoy could do that, what was the harm in telling him about his father?

"My father didn't use to be a bastard. He was actually quite normal when we were growing up. By we, I mean my sister and I. Before I went to Hogwarts, my Mum suddenly died. She just dropped dead, no rhyme or reason. She was beautiful, from what I can remember, and it tore my father's heart apart when she died. He became different…less kind…more vicious. He drank day and night and rarely slept. He took to sleeping on the couch in the living room because he couldn't stand being in bed without Mum."

Gilderoy realized he was blinking away tears and hoped that it was still dark enough in the tent so that Dunstan didn't realize he was crying. Willing his voice to stay calm, Gilderoy continued.

"One summer after we came back from Hogwarts, my sister and I found that he was drunk off his arse. He was yelling a storm at us, blaming us for not taking care of the house and getting poor marks in Hogwarts. My sister cried and left for her friend's house, but I wasn't as lucky. I didn't have many friends in Hogwarts. All the Ravenclaws thought I was an idiot for not being a genius like the rest of them. So I stayed and got the brunt of the abuse. 'You're nothing!' he said. 'You killed your mother!' he said. 'Go fuck off and live your miserable life!' he said. Worst thing was that I just took it. Never said a word."

He stopped, unable to continue because he didn't want Dunstan to hear his throat was chocked up. It would be no use in Dunstan thinking he was weak while a dragon was breathing down their necks. Yet, Dunstan didn't tease him as Gilderoy thought he would. The dark haired man was contemplatively silent, letting Gilderoy's story linger in the air after he finished.

"I had a father a lot like yours too," Dunstan offered, "Beat me and my sister because I didn't join the Death Eaters. Our Mum was a Muggle, you see, and my father always resented that we were Half-Bloods. Of course, no Slytherin wanted to recruit some Half-Bloods at the time and Dad was furious at that. I told myself I'd be able to take it until we left. Until we graduated from Hogwarts. Except one day, I found him at home trying to rape my sister."

Gilderoy paled. He couldn't imagine what he would do if his father tried to do the same. Dunstan didn't cry like Gilderoy though. He was staring into the fire, his silver eyes fierce and his jaw clenched.

"What'd you do?" Gilderoy couldn't help but ask, wondering how the story ended.

"I killed him," Dunstan answered simply, "I left and never went back."

Gilderoy could see why Dunstan was a traveler now. He could see why Dunstan was an adventurer that didn't like staying in one place for a long period of time. He thought he had an abusive father, but his paled in comparison to Dunstan's. There was something remarkable about Dunstan's strength and perseverance to carry on after killing his own father. Gilderoy felt a kinship towards him, as if he understood exactly what the other man was going through.

As if Dunstan was reading his mind, the other man nodded at him, "So you see Gilderoy Lockhart, we're not that different you and I. That's what's going to get us that treasure."

Dunstan laid back down after that, not speaking and after a minutes, Gilderoy could hear the heavy breathing of sleep. Once again, Gilderoy stayed awake well into the night, reflecting on Dunstan's words. He didn't have a lot of friends at Hogwarts. Most of the people in his year shunned him for being stupid and chasing frivolities. Others just seemed to dislike his personality. He didn't know why and always resented the ingrates for not accepting him.

Yet, here he was with someone that was equally rejected by his peers and underwent the same abuse. For the first time in ages, Gilderoy had hope. Gilderoy Lockhart had a friend and in the dark of night, they were going to make each other rich and famous beyond measure.

* * *

**A/N: Another short story as I try to shake writer's block from Headmaster Tom Riddle. I had this idea about Gilderoy's back story and origins for a while and wanted to see what I could do with it. It is a bit of a departure from my other stories (one without Harry as the lead), but hopefully I can see what other talents I have. **

**What do you think? Interesting or completely boring? Is the premise too thin? Honestly, **_**dragons**_**?**


	2. The Weary Pass

Gilderoy was the first to wake, again, and rolled out of bed to peel back the flap of the tent. The storm had vanished, the azure, sunny sky replacing the dark clouds. He looked North and saw there were more storm clouds building behind the mountains. They would receive rain again today.

"Dunstan, wake up!" Gilderoy called as he changed into his clothes.

The silver-eyed man slowly woke and Gilderoy could see a flash of silver under his pillow. There was no doubt that it was his silver dagger underneath the pillow. Gilderoy briefly wondered what dangers a man has faced to sleep with a knife under your pillow, but realized that Dunstan must have had his fair share of sleepless nights if there was a kernel of truth in his stories.

"Storm's let up, but I think we'll get some later today." It was Gilderoy's turn to play weatherman.

"To be expected," Dunstan grunted as he looped a belt around his waist and sheathed his dagger into place, "We should go see if we can get a good breakfast from that house."

They decided to leave most of their belongings underneath the overhang. There was no way to know whether or not the denizens of the house were Muggles and it was best not to take any chances. Dunstan dunned an overcoat and opted to leave his dagger in the tent. He replaced it with his wand and thought whoever lived in the house wouldn't question a stick around his waist. Gilderoy slid his wand into his pocket and brought out a fresh shirt so they didn't seem like a pair of drifters.

Approaching the house, Gilderoy could smell something sweet and smoky even from a distance and his stomach grumbled. They had nothing but small provisions they would have to save for the treacherous mountain pass. Even then, there was barely enough food to get them home, but they could at least Apparate after they survived the ordeal. If they survived the ordeal.

"We can't stay longer than a day," Dunstan gave out last instructions before they knocked on the door, "Hopefully we can just get some food. If they ask, we're on a mountain expedition and we like hiking."

"Do I look like a hiker?" Gilderoy worriedly asked.

"Not in the least, but flash those pearly whites and they'll be blinded enough to not notice," Dunstan smirked.

_Always with the teeth jokes. Is it my fault I'm blessed with perfect, straight teeth?_

Dunstan knocked heavily on the door and dusted off his jacket. Gilderoy did the same, realizing they had to make a good impression if they wanted any chance at fresh food. The smell was making his mouth water and Gilderoy made note to be as charming as possible.

"Who's there?" a voice called out from behind the door. Dunstan looked at Gilderoy as if to say, _Told you they'd be suspicious_.

"Just a pair of hikers hoping to get some food!" Dunstan called back.

"And how do I know that?" the man asked again.

"We have nothing here with us," Dunstan held out his arms and twirled around and Gilderoy looked at him in confusion. The older man jerked his head towards the window and saw a pair of blue eyes staring at him. Starting, Gilderoy mimicked the motion to reveal he had no weapons.

"It's a long hike through the mountains and we'd love to get some food for the day. Please, sir," Dunstan turned up the charm, his voice rising to a pleading tone. He impressed Gilderoy with the way he could add a certain convincing lilt in his voice.

The door wrenched open and a rotund man with a big butcher's knife looked at them wearily. Dunstan held out his arms again and Gilderoy foolishly repeated him.

"What are you, his little whipping boy?" the round man asked.

Gilderoy bristled at the accusation, "I'm his partner."

The man continued to stare at them, his eyes darting back and forth to ascertain their worth. Dunstan sighed and lowered his arms, "Please, sir, it's another couple days journey through the mountains and we were caught in that torrential rain last night. We'd love to just get some breakfast."

Gilderoy could see the man didn't want to relent, but then a woman, presumably his wife by her age, popped out from behind him. She was pretty, in that middle-aged way, and looked at the pair of them with slightly less suspicion.

"You're not going to make any trouble?" Her voice was sharp and accusing.

"No, m'am," Dunstan replied with a bright smile, "We took shelter at the overhang over the cliff bluff," he pointed in the general direction, "Just want a good breakfast before we head into the mountains."

The man narrowed his eyes and gripped the knife tighter, "And what business do you have in those mountains?"

"Just hikers going through the country," Dunstan pleasantly answered.

The husband and wife looked at each other and for a moment, Gilderoy thought they were going to deny them that warm meal that was cooking inside, but after a look, they finally relented.

"No funny business!" The man pointed his knife at the pair of them before stepping back and letting them inside.

"George! Manners!" The wife scolded him after he pointed his knife, "I'm sorry about him. We get a lot of stragglers out here trying to steal our crop and food, so we tend to be a bit suspicious, but you two don't look like any stragglers."

Gilderoy threw a bright smile at her and the older woman blushed underneath his gaze.

_Still got it_.

"We promise to be out of your hair as soon as we can," Gilderoy continued to smile at her, hoping to put the woman at ease.

"Ingrid! Set some extra plates and get some chairs from the back," George barked.

The girl in question revealed herself and Gilderoy found himself looking at the blue eyes that were peering out the window. She was very pretty, her blonde hair curling around the nape of her neck and a small, delicate nose that sparkled against the firelight. Her blue eyes were exquisite, the same color as the sky and her body was pleasant and still growing. She looked to be no older than sixteen and Gilderoy flashed her a smile as well. She blushed, much like her mother, and meekly said hello.

"That's Ingrid, my daughter," the mother boasted.

"But you haven't told me your beautiful name," Gilderoy teased, used to this game.

The woman giggled girlishly, "I'm Angie. And you are…"

"Sir Dunstan Wilkinson," Dunstan held out his hand for a friendly handshake.

"_Sir_?" Ingrid blurted out with raised eyebrows.

Dunstan smiled genially at her, causing a crimson blush to spread across her pale skin, "Yes. Her Royal Majesty did the deed herself some few years ago."

"And what'd you get knighted for?" George came back, asking him with his hands on his hips.

"Helped out during The Troubles," Dunstan gave the same story, omitting the part where he killed the Bastard of Shankill.

"Well, you two can't be all that bad!" Angie blustered, "Imagine - a knight under our roofs! Ingrid, get the good china."

Ingrid smiled at Dunstan and shyly crept away to set the table. Granted a moment of reprieve from the family, Gilderoy looked around to survey the house. It was a medium-sized house with only one floor but plenty of space. They entered though the living room and the kitchen was to their right, two steps raising it above the rest of the room. There was an island counter in the middle of the kitchen where a medley of ingredients were splattered about. The fire burned brightly in the corner while George cooked away at the stove. They were definitely Muggles by the look of it. Between the living room and the kitchen was a hallway that Gilderoy surmised led to their bedrooms.

"And you?" Angie turned to Gilderoy and he realized he had yet revealed his name.

"Gilderoy Lockhart," he introduced himself, "Adventurer extraordinaire!"

"Oh, a traveler! And where have you been?"

"Well…you see…" Gilderoy hadn't thought that lie out and looked to Dunstan pleadingly. Dunstan had a twinkle in his eye and shook his head but intervened nonetheless.

"We've journeyed as far East as India and as far south as Somlia. We left school together and made a pact to travel the world and explore the edges," Dunstan sat down on a chair.

"Left school together?" Angie looked back and forth between them, "You must be at least a couple years older than Gilderoy over here."

"We went to a boarding school. I sort of took him in as my protégé," Dunstan smoothly lied. Gilderoy was impressed again. Was that the key to all of Dunstan's success? He had pulled that lie out of thin air and silkily passed it along as the truth with nary a pause. On the other hand, he stuttered through the first question with on plan at all.

"Well, isn't that precious," Angie gushed, "We're glad to have you here then. Come on! Food's almost ready."

There was an assortment of food, bacon and hashers and waffles among them. Gilderoy ate greedily, not knowing when he was going to receive his next good meal. It became clear that Angie did most of the talking. Ingrid interrupted every now and then with her own little anecdote, but it was obvious she was very shy and blushed every time she made eye contact with Gilderoy or Dunstan. George grunted answers, probably still weary of his new guests, but he warmed up eventually, asking a few questions of his own.

The family owned the plot of land through heritage and grew crops and other food for neighboring towns and villages. It was a decent living and the family was usually counted on to bring in a good harvest. Their daughter was home schooled since there weren't any schools for some distance, but they hoped she would attend University when the time came.

"I'm sure she's very smart," Gilderoy winked at her lightheartedly and Ingrid buried her head in her food again.

"Brilliant!" Angie clapped her hand excitedly as any proud mother would, "Poor thing's going to have to come out of her shell when she moves away."

"Mum," Ingrid gasped, "Stop it!"

"Oh shush, Ingrid, you know its true."

Gilderoy chuckled, finding their interplay honestly amusing. He was sore from the long walk the day before and enjoyed sitting down to eat a good breakfast by the fire. Dunstan seemed to enjoy the food as well as he dug into the apples.

"These apples are delicious…ripe for the picking," Gilderoy munched into the apple as he looked at Ingrid's blue eyes.

"Picked them just a few days ago," George puffed his chest proudly, "Should bring in a decent haul."

"I have no doubt it will," Dunstan answered, "So…_delicious_," he looked at Ingrid yet again and Gilderoy looked at Dunstan, puzzled, but the older man didn't meet his eye.

"How do you get all this food to the towns anyway? I don't see a broom," Gilderoy honestly wondered how they did it but realized his folly too late.

Dunstan didn't overtly glare at him, but he did look pointedly at Gilderoy while the rest of the family stared on in confusion. Tugging the collar of his shirt, Gilderoy smiled weakly.

"You know - to sweep all these apples in."

They were still looking at him with odd stares, but Angie slowly answered, "Well…we usually take the car, but the front wheel got a flat the other day."

Gilderoy almost slapped himself in the forehead.

_Of course, a car! Muggles…they're Muggles._

"A flat?" Dunstan tried to veer the topic away from Gilderoy, "Well, we could help. It's the least we could do for this amazing and delicious breakfast."

"Don't think you'll be much help, lad. Got to wait until someone from town brings in a new tire," George grunted.

Dunstan's eyes shined and he let out a sly grin as his eye curiously caught Ingrid's again, "I've learned a trick or two in my day."

So they stood up after finishing breakfast, Dunstan's hand casually glancing with Ingrid's as they reached for the same plate. Ingrid snapped it back and her eyes were wide as she looked up at Dunstan's towering form. Dunstan smiled at her and Ingrid quickly grabbed her plate and deposited it in the sink, fleeing to her bedroom. Gilderoy rolled his eyes at Dunstan and waited until the husband and wife were out of earshot.

"Stop flirting with the poor girl! She's going to swallow her tongue if you smile at her one more time," Gilderoy admonished him, but there was no sting in his voice.

Dunstan shrugged with a mysterious smile, "I can't help it."

Gilderoy was glad Dunstan was sent to the back to help with the Muggle car. Gilderoy offered to wash the dishes, but Angie would have none of it. Instead, he entertained her with altered versions of his youth, careful to omit anything that might have been magically suspicious. Angie bought it all, laughing and hooting at all the right times and offering advice in others.

It was about an hour later when George and Dunstan returned from the back where they presumably kept the car. Judging from the wide grin on George's face, Dunstan had probably managed to fix the tire.

"I might have thought the worst from both of you, but fixing that tire was nothing short of a miracle!" George had apparently forgave them for intruding into their lives.

Dunstan shrugged sheepishly but Gilderoy could tell he didn't mean it, "Just a bit of magic is all."

"Magic it was. Still don't know how you managed to fix that gaping hole," George was smiling and shaking his head to himself as he wiped off his hands, "Please, stay for dinner! I bought some turkey a couple days ago and we're cooking it tonight. You have to stay. It's only polite."

Gilderoy was about to tell them they should be on their way to avoid the storm, but Dunstan suddenly interrupted him.

"Sure! We'd love to stay!" Dunstan eagerly replied.

Gilderoy looked at him questioningly, wondering if he had forgotten the instructions he gave to Gilderoy this morning. Dunstan was still smiling at the couple but shook his head with a small motion and looked at him as if to say, _Later_.

There was nothing Gilderoy could do but agree and so they stayed at the house for dinner, exchanging stories throughout the afternoon. Once or twice, Ingrid would dash to the kitchen to get a snack, but apparently the pair's presence was too much for her as she immediately retreated to her room each time.

"Forgive her, she's a bit shy," Angie said.

"It's quite alright," Dunstan said, "She's very beautiful."

"Takes after her mother," George beamed at Angie.

They continued small talk until it was time for dinner. George and Angie stepped into the kitchen and started cooking, moving about in perfect choreography. It smelled absolutely wonderful again and Gilderoy suddenly agreed with the decision to stay. They had a wonderful dinner with turkey and potatoes and the family informed them they had a guest bed room with a pair of beds they could stay for the night. Gilderoy initially declined, but the storm had returned and there was no choice but to stay.

"Is our stuff going to be okay?" Gilderoy asked when the family called it and a night and he and Dunstan were alone.

"They should be. No one else should be coming along that overhang anytime soon. We'll leave tomorrow."

Gilderoy nodded as he turned in for bed. He had one more question before he slept, however, "Why'd you want to stay?"

Dunstan waited a long time answer what was supposed to be a simple question. In the end, he finally said, "No reason."

Gilderoy couldn't really find a good rebuttal and it was as good an answer as any, so he fell asleep, grateful he wasn't out in the torrential downpour.

* * *

He woke first, the soft snoring of Dunstan letting him know the adventurer was still asleep. Unable to stay in bed any longer, Gilderoy dressed and headed towards the kitchen, hoping someone else was awake at the early hour. To no surprise, Angie was standing in the kitchen, sipping on some tea.

"Tea?" she asked when he stepped in the room.

Gilderoy accepted the offering gladly, drinking the earthy contents. George came in through the door, grumbling about something or the other but brightened when he spotted Gilderoy.

"Gilderoy, do you mind helping me out at the crops? I'm not as strong as I used to be," he asked, his eyes pleading.

Seeing as how there was nothing else to do until Dunstan woke up, Gilderoy agreed despite his reservations about getting his hands dirty. He wished he could just wave his wand and transport all the bags into the wheelbarrow, but he couldn't reveal himself in front of Muggles. Angie followed them out back, plucking apples from a tree and other crops that had already grown.

It took about an hour's work, but as Gilderoy looked North to the mountains, he found nothing but clear skies. Hopefully, the storms were over. He didn't quite envy trying to navigate the mountains under rain and thunder. They ventured a bit further into the crop field, Angie following them along as they threw more things to collect in the wheelbarrow. It was hard work and Gilderoy didn't particularly enjoy it, but what else was he supposed to do for the family that fed them for a whole day? Mercifully finishing, they trudged back towards the house and walked through the door, hot and sweaty even in the slightly cool air.

"Ingrid! Set the table!" Angie called out to her only daughter.

But there was no response and Angie frowned. "Ingrid?"

The three of them waited, curious as to why Ingrid wasn't responding. According to Angie, Ingrid was usually an early riser and would probably be awake by the time they finished picking crops. They continued to wait until they heard a muffled noise.

"Ingrid?" There was worry in Angie's voice now as she quickly hurried to her bedroom. She flung open the door, Gilderoy and George behind her but found no one in there.

"Ingrid?" Angie cried out in a more worried tone.

They heard another muffled sound, but this time it was coming from the guest bedroom. Before Angie even started for the separate room, a feeling of dread was creeping along Gilderoy's spine. There was something. There was something incredibly wrong with the situation and Gilderoy wanted nothing more than to weld the door shut so he didn't have to know. He quickly followed Angie to the door, hoping he was wrong.

He couldn't have been more right.

Dunstan was hunched over Ingrid, shirtless and his pants crumpled around his ankles. His hand was clamped over Ingrid's mouth and the blonde girl looked tiny in Dunstan's arms. Gilderoy would never forget the haunting, pleading look in her eyes. Her short was halfway pulled off and her trousers were pooled down around her knees, leaving no mistake as to what happened.

Angie let out a cursed wail, her nails scratching and drawing blood along her cheeks. Gilderoy could feel George trying to peak into the room, desperately trying to discover what happened, but Gilderoy was blocking him. He knew the big man had a temper and if he saw…if he saw…if he _saw_…

What was Dunstan thinking?

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ Dunstan procured the wand amidst the commotion, freezing Angie on the spot. Angie's arms snapped to her sides and she fell forward like a stiff plank and Gilderoy only caught her in time to save her a broken nose.

The movement allowed George to enter the room and he gasped, his voice catching as he saw Ingrid scramble backwards on the bed, away from Dunstan, to cover herself up. Dunstan had pulled up his pants, but he was already pointing his wand at George.

"_Petrificus Totalus!"_ he yelled again. This time, it was George who froze, his face beet red with anger, and Gilderoy only just managed to avoid his large weight as he crashed into the ground.

He was breathing heavily, that much he knew, and Gilderoy finally had a moment to survey the situation. The two parents were frozen on the ground while Ingrid was crying and whimpering, pushing as far away as she could from Dunstan. Dunstan was looking upon the scene with a cool indifference, his silver eyes not betraying any amount of guilt.

"What are you _doing_?" Gilderoy cried, throwing his arms in the air as he finally found words.

Dunstan didn't answer, only turning towards Ingrid with a dangerous gleam in his eyes. Gilderoy leaped up and pulled out his own wand. He didn't know what he could do to Dunstan with all his experience, but he would be damned if he let happen what he thought would've happened had they not arrived.

"Relax," Dunstan drawled, "I'm just making sure they forget everything."

"Forget? Forget? How?" Gilderoy questioned as he lowered his wand, still keeping a tight grip on it.

"Move," Dunstan ordered and Gilderoy had no option but to comply.

Pointing the wand at the girl, he said, "_Obliviate._"

Gilderoy watched as the girl's eyes glazed over and her arms slumped to the side. She looked to be catatonic and while Gilderoy recognized the spell, he was unsure as to what it did.

"You'll forget all about this. Some strangers came by to take your food and that's all that happened."

Gilderoy thought Dunstan was speaking to him, but when he turned around, it was clear that he was speaking to Ingrid. Ingrid nodded dumbly and Gilderoy finally realized what spell Dunstan had used. It was the Memory Charm! It replaced one's memory with whatever the caster said. It was a difficult charm to master and not one Gilderoy had ever attempted, but it seemed Dunstan was very good at it.

He repeated the process on Angie and George, telling them that strangers had taken their food for a night, but they vanished and the family never saw them again. He leaned them against the wall, lifting the Body-Binding Curse and ordered Gilderoy, "Get the rest of our stuff and go to the overhang."

Gilderoy hesitated, not wanting to leave the family behind with Dunstan.

"Now," Dunstan said icily.

Giving one last apologetic look, though it meant nothing to their incapacitated brains, he left the family, walking up the hills to find their belongings still underneath the overhang. He packed them up and waited for Dunstan to return. Return he did, still as indifferent as he had been inside the house. Donning his ornate cloak, Dunstan slung the Bottomless Bag around his shoulder and continued North without a word.

* * *

_What have I gotten myself into?_

Gilderoy made sure to walk ten paces behind him, his hand constantly on his wand as he watched Dunstan stride forwards. They had started up the mountain and Dunstan seemed to be following a path he already knew. Gilderoy's mind kept flashing back to Ingrid's haunting blue eyes as she wordlessly begged him for help. It occurred to Gilderoy that he didn't know what type of man Dunstan was. He knew he was an adventurer, but he had taken that light-heartedly because all of his stories were so fantastical that he seemed harmless. The more he thought about it, however, the more he realized that a man that procured all of these items had more than a dangerous streak to him.

He thought back to the story of how he killed his father after he caught the man trying to rape his sister. Had it come full circle? Had Dunstan become his father? Gilderoy knew of the familiar saying, like father, like son, but was it really true to that degree? It didn't help that Dunstan hadn't spoken a word, not bothering to claim innocence or even to tell Gilderoy what direction to go. The silencing was unnerving him and he wanted to know the truth before he kept going.

"Why'd you do it?" Gilderoy asked Dunstan's broad back.

Dunstan stopped and Gilderoy stopped with him, still a few paces behind him to keep distance. Dunstan looked over his shoulder and snorted.

"Because I wanted her."

The answer was simple, but chilling, a declaration of intent that what Dunstan wanted, he got. Gilderoy pulled his cloak tighter around him, the cold wind funneling through the mountain. Dunstan was still standing still, looking over his shoulder but not really looking at Gilderoy.

"Dunstan…that was wrong," Gilderoy lamely said.

Dunstan's shoulders dropped and he turned around to face him. Surprisingly, his face was apologetic and he winced as he said, "I know. I got carried away. All this traveling and sometimes you forget that normal girls aren't just wenches."

Gilderoy didn't answer, too dumbfounded to find a reply. Was that it? Was Dunstan so used to buying his sexual exploits that he tried to force himself on a young girl? Gilderoy tried to convince himself that's all it was, but deep inside, he knew that wasn't he full truth. The whole truth. There was something else. Yet, there was nothing else could say.

"Alright. Just…don't do that again," Gilderoy said.

Nodding solemnly, Dunstan replied, "I won't."

They continued on their journey, Gilderoy still behind Dunstan. It was a tough climb and the obstacles were a good distraction for Gilderoy. He didn't want to think about Ingrid's blue eyes or Angie's wail at the sight of her daughter. He wanted to keep believing Dunstan was just some world traveler that got a little out of control. Still, as he climbed over a boulder, Gilderoy couldn't shake the feeling that he had misread Dunstan.

The mountains loomed above them, taunting their miniscule size as obstacle after obstacle presented itself. Dunstan knew the path, from experience or information Gilderoy didn't have, and lead the way without too much conversation. He didn't raise the subject of Ingrid again, preferring small talk and pointing out dangers as they continued.

They rested for the night in a small alcove and Gilderoy was grateful there was no more rain. Still, he felt suffocated by Dunstan's presence and slept uneasily that night. He had dreams, nightmares of Ingrid calling out to him and then a giant wolf devouring her. He awoke in a sweat in the middle of night, looking over at Dunstan. The older man was still snoring and Gilderoy was struck by how harmless he looked while he was asleep. If Ingrid was any indication, Dunstan was more than harmless.

They continued on without a word, Gilderoy still not speaking much to Dunstan. They climbed narrow, jagged edges and the sharp rocks were abrasive against Gilderoy's hands. He didn't dare don gloves. Gloves were nowhere near as sure as hands and one fell slip meant death. It was half-way through the fourth day of the journey when Dunstan signaled for him to stop.

"Are we here?" the eagerness edging into Gilderoy's voice despite the previous events.

Dunstan shook his head, "No. It's something else. There's people."

He lowered himself to the ground, pressing against a rock that was on a ledge. Gilderoy followed suit, slowly crouching his way towards him. Dunstan put a finger to his lips and pointed over the edge, creeping over ever so slightly. Gilderoy peeked over, trying to catch a glimpse of these supposed people.

Below them was a flat landing and two people around a fire. They were raggedly dressed, their clothes mismatching and patched. Gilderoy wondered what they were doing in the middle of the mountains with no shelter around. He saw a few bags and an improvised sleeping mat, but there was nothing else.

"Muggles?" Gilderoy whispered as he pulled himself off the ledge.

"No," Dunstan was working quickly, pulling things out of his Bottomless Bag, "Wizards. I saw them light the fire with a wand."

Gilderoy looked back at the edge though he could see nothing. "Can't we just go around them?"

Dunstan's head snapped up, perhaps at the anxiety in Gilderoy's voice. His face hardened and his eyes became a shade darker underneath the setting sun.

"No, they're blocking our way to the last part of the path. We're going to have to take them down."

"Take them down?" Gilderoy tried his best not to sound like an anxious school boy, "Why do we have to take them down? What if…what if they're just real hikers?"

Dunstan snorted in derision, "Don't be stupid, Gilderoy. Look at their clothes. They're not hear just wandering around. They're here for another reason."

"What reason?"

"The same reason we're here," Dunstan finished as he pulled the knife out.

Gilderoy's eyes widened as he saw the knife gleam from the sunlight. It was much larger now that it was out of its sheath. It looked to be an inch thick and especially pointy at the end. No doubt there was some secondary purpose the dagger contained if Dunstan indeed got it for killing a vampire.

"We're not going to kill them, are we?" Gilderoy said in a hushed whisper.

Dunstan grinned, "Not yet."

Gilderoy paled and pulled out his own wand. He didn't want to kill _anyone_. He wasn't even sure if he wanted this damn treasure anymore. It seemed to be more trouble than it was worth and the more he found out about Dunstan, the scarier the other man seemed.

"You're going to have to take out the other one," Dunstan informed him.

"Right," Gilderoy said as if he were in a daze, "Me. I'll take him out."

Dunstan arched an eyebrow and Gilderoy was suddenly drawn to the scar on the man's face and wondered how he received it.

"You're good with that, right? You're going to have to get your hands dirty if you want this treasure."

Gilderoy nodded and moved to the ledge as if his arms and feet were moving out of their own accord. He couldn't really process what was happening, still in a daze, but as soon as Dunstan jumped down to attack the man closer to the fire, he snapped out of it. Gilderoy jumped down too, avoiding an initial spell. He wasn't that skilled in dueling, but they had the higher ground and the advantage of surprise. Gilderoy stunned him in just a few seconds and the other man was already incapacitated.

"You good?" Dunstan asked as he placed his boot on the man's shoulder.

"I'm good," Gilderoy looked back at his downed man and felt just a small semblance of accomplishment. Yet, it was quickly doused as he wondered if they were fellow treasure hunters as well.

"Should we wake them up? See what they're up to?" Gilderoy suddenly asked, looking up at Dunstan.

Dunstan shrugged, apparently indifferent, "Sure, but wait until after I've looted the rest of their stuff."

Dunstan grabbed what ever he could from the other man's bags. They had supplies similar to them, food and ropes they would need for the mountain climb. Dunstan stuffed it into his Bottomless Bag and then tied both of the strangers up. Convinced that the ropes would hold, Dunstan consented to waking them up.

The first man that woke up was skinny. His skin was blotchy and red, his sandy hair straggly but bright in the sunlight. He resembled one of the carrots Gilderoy had tossed into the wheelbarrow, but his stomach lurched as he thought of Ingrid and the family again. He shook his head to clear his mind as he woke the other man up. The other man was taller and more solidly built, with the face of a bear. He glowered angrily at them as soon as he woke up and Gilderoy swore he even growled at some point.

Dunstan kicked both of them in the legs, causing them to howl in pain. He made sure to brandish his dagger in full view in case either of them had thoughts of escaping. He crouched in front of them and pointed his knife at skinny.

"You. What're you two doing so far away from home?" Dunstan casually asked.

"What's it to you?" Skinny answered in a nasally voice.

"It's nothing to me, but what you answer lets me know whether or not I should let you out of those ropes."

Skinned looked hesitantly at his bear friend but mustered enough pride to sneer, "Just taking a look at the pretty mountains."

Dunstan cocked his head, "No, I don't think that's what you're doing here. What about you, bear face? What're you doing here?"

Bear face didn't answer, grunting and glaring at Dunstan. Dunstan stood up after a few more questions that got nothing but noncommittal responses. He looked back and Gilderoy and walked a few paces away so they could talk in private but still keep an eye on the bound pair.

"What do you think?" Gilderoy asked as he nervously looked back at Skinny and Bear Face.

"Up to no good," Dunstan concluded, "But they could just be low lives traveling."

Gilderoy thought of Ingrid's house that lay between the mountains and the village. Dunstan was apparently thinking the same thing because he immediately shook his head, "It isn't any use trying to warn them. George is a smart man. These two already look like trouble and he won't let them in."

"I hope not." Blue eyes flashed across Gilderoy's face.

Spitting off a cliff edge, Dunstan took one look back at the bound pair before turning to Gilderoy and saying, "I'm going to look ahead to scout and see if they have any friends. Keep watch."

Dunstan walked along the path and disappeared around the bend while Gilderoy returned to the two drifters. He double checked the ropes, making sure that these two were contained before sitting on a rock and pulling some bread out of the Bottomless Bag.

"Hey pretty boy," Skinny said, "Let us go and we'll kill the other guy for you."

Gilderoy snorted, "Don't think you'll be able to kill him. He's been around that one."

"My friend here can snap his neck as soon as he comes back. Come on! Let us out!" Skinny pleaded.

Shaking his head as he continued eating, Gilderoy answered, "You two aren't going anywhere."

Bear Face stayed silent but made his displeasure known by his facial expression. Skinny fell back and shook his head at Gilderoy disapprovingly.

"What are you doing out here anyways? You two don't look like you need work," Skinny continued to interrogate him with that nasally voice even though he was the one tied up.

_How wrong you are_.

Gilderoy didn't see what the harm in telling him was and he had been dying to tell someone about this supposed treasure. He told Skinny that they were looking for a dragon instead though.

Skinny started laughing along with Bear Face, hysterically hooting. The echoes carried around the mountain and it sounded as if the mountain itself was laughing at Gilderoy. Fuming, Gilderoy stood up and kicked Skinny to shut him up. Skinny stopped but smiled up at Gilderoy.

"What are you laughing for?" Gilderoy demanded as he towered over them.

Bear Face chuckled and Skinny answered for them, "You think there's some treasure that only appear at night and its protected by a dragon, don't you?"

Gilderoy froze. How did they know? Had they already discovered the treasure? Were they looking for the treasure? Is that why there were out here? Before he could ask any of those questions, Skinny spoke up again.

"Did the big man tell you that? He tell you there's treasure?" Skinny taunted him.

Gilderoy didn't answer, but his hesitation gave it away. Skinny laughed again, quieter this time, but no less annoying. For the first time, Gilderoy started to doubt the purpose of this trip. Was there treasure? Dunstan had offered no evidence besides his other trinkets. He had already seen a side of Dunstan he didn't even know existed and here was Skinny, spinning the exact same tale.

"Boy, I have a secret for you," Skinny leaned forward and whispered, "There ain't no treasure."

He reeled back, pointing his wand at Skinny. Gilderoy's mind was racing and he looked around the bend to see if there was any sign of Dunstan but he had yet to return. He looked back at Skinny, his heart racing at the implication.

"Tell the truth! What do you mean" Gilderoy asked as his hand wavered.

Skinny held his bound hands up in mock surrender, "I swear. There's no treasure. That's just a wild tale they make up to get people into these mountains. There's nothing here but rocks and bones from everyone dumb enough to try."

It couldn't be true! It just couldn't! Gilderoy had traveled all this way with the promise of gold and treasure beyond measure, but the doubt was already settling in his stomach. Why should he believe Dunstan? Had Dunstan given him anything but wild stories of far-off lands? And then there was Ingrid and what Dunstan had attempted back at the house. Would a man that tried to rape a girl be capable of luring someone else into a false trip and if he did, _why_ was he taking Gilderoy into the mountains?

Skinny kept laughing and Gilderoy wanted nothing more than to shut him up, but he needed more information, "How do you know that? How do you know if there's no treasure?"

Pointing at Bear Face, Skinny said, "He's lived here all his life. I needed him as a tour guide. He's a bit slow, but big and able to get me to the other side of the mountains. He's heard the dragon stories, too."

Swiveling and pointing his wand at Bear Face, Gilderoy commanded, "Speak. Tell me the truth."

Bear Face smiled and Gilderoy could see molded and falling out teeth. He said, "Dumb Wizard."

Skinny hooted at that, falling back and rolling around on his back. Gilderoy lowered his wand, dispirited. Was it true? Was there no treasure?

"_Obliviate! Obliviate!_"

The spells came from above and Gilderoy sprang back as he lifted his eyes to find Dunstan standing above them. He was angry and Gilderoy feared he had heard Skinny. If Skinny was right, Dunstan would surely kill Gilderoy now. He had no use for him now that he knew his secret. He hopped off the ledge and told Skinny and Bear Face to scram and leave the house alone.

Turning to Gilderoy, he said, "I couldn't stand his infernal laughing. What was he laughing about anyways? I could hear him even when the bend turned around to lead me back here."

Gilderoy narrowed his eyes at the older man and spoke slowly, "He was laughing at a joke Bear Face told him."

"Bear Face?" Dunstan looked at the larger man and then back at Gilderoy, "I can see it."

_Did he not hear?_

Dunstan dismissed the pair with their altered memories and picked up his Bottomless Bag. He looked back at a frozen Gilderoy with a curious smile and asked, "Are you coming or not, Gilderoy?"

Gilderoy nodded and slung his duffel over his shoulder. Apparently, Dunstan didn't hear Skinny accusing him of lying and making up the dragon. Then again, if he lied about the dragon, couldn't he have also lied about not hearing anything?

* * *

They continued for the rest of the day, well into the night. Dunstan kept muttering that they were close, but in the darkness, Gilderoy couldn't see how they were anywhere close. Everything looked the same and he swore they had passed the same bend twice. It was just jagged edge upon jagged edge, a constant threat of falling and death. Gilderoy was still wary, Skinny's laugh ringing in his ears as he thought the dragon and the treasure.

_Did it exist? If it doesn't exist, what does Dunstan want from me?_

The second question was what kept him from Stunning Dunstan on the spot. There would be no other reason to drag him out into the mountains unless Dunstan was some sort of serial killer but…that just didn't seem to be his motive. There was something else at play and it was gnawing at Gilderoy. After they passed what seemed to be the same boulder again, Gilderoy finally broke.

"Is it real?" Gilderoy blurted out.

Dunstan stopped and whirled around, his silver eyes gleaming under the bright, full moon. He frowned, "Is what real?"

Gilderoy shifted uncomfortably, not wanting to accuse the man of fabricating the entire journey, but he was left with no choice, "Is the dragon real? Is the treasure real? Is it any of it real?"

Dunstan scoffed, "Of course it's real! We're close so if you would stop yapping and -"

"Skinny," Gilderoy interrupted him, "said it was all fake. It was just some story they say to make people go into the mountains."

"No," Dunstan insisted as he took a step closer to Gilderoy, "It's real."

"Dunstan!" Gilderoy pleaded, "Just tell me. You can tell me if you thought it was real too, but it's not. Skinny and Bear Face said it wasn't real."

"Skinny? Bear Face? Why would you trust the likes of them? They're just thieves waiting in the mountains. I've gotten you all this way."

"Dunstan, please," Gilderoy inched away but found himself backed up on a cliff edge while the other man continued to approach, "Just tell me. I'll believe you if you say you were fooled too!"

Dunstan froze, realization dawning on him as he finally put the pieces of the puzzle together. He didn't seem angry and that frightened Gilderoy more than anything. When he next spoke, his voice was calm and indifferent, "You think I'm lying? You think I made all of this up?"

Gilderoy stuttered, his mouth opening and closing, but it was no use. His refusal to answer screamed, _Yes! You made all of this up!_ He looked behind him but saw nothing but the dark abyss of a ravine. He was pinned and Dunstan knew it. Dunstan took two large strides toward him and Gilderoy rushed to get his wand, but he was too late.

He yanked him by the neck and pulled him along by his hair. Gilderoy yelped, pleading for Dunstan to let him go, but the dark-haired man was determined. He frog marched Gilderoy forward, pulling him by his luscious blond locks.

"You think I'm lying? You think I made all this up?" Dunstan growled accusingly as he kept walking forward.

"No - ow!," Gilderoy winced as he had no choice but to keep walking forward, "You could have been fooled by the stories! It's okay!"

Dunstan laughed, his voice harsh and his laugh completely different than its usual merry timber, "I trusted you, Gilderoy."

Gilderoy gasped from the pain and continued to try and wrench free, but Dunstan was too strong. "Please, Dunstan! Just let me go!"

Dunstan granted him his wish and threw him down on a ledge and pointed his wand at him.

_This is the end_, Gilderoy thought as he closed his eyes, but he heard a completely different spell than the one he was expecting.

"_LUMOS_!"

Dunstan said the spell with such ferocity that it seemed to shake Gilderoy's bones. The landing below them lit up in a bright wash of light and Gilderoy gasped as he took in the sight.

There were bones, mostly human scattered all around ground. Dried blood also splattered the edges. Some of the stone was burnt, the darkness and different colors indicating there had been several fires. Gilderoy followed the trail of bones, farther and farther as Dunstan stretched the light. The last remaining bones continued into the mouth of a dark cave with an opening so enormous, you could have fit three Hogwarts Expresses stacked on top of each other. His mouth gaped, the sight so unbelievable but validating. It was a few moments until he heard the low, distinct roar that echoed from the cave. That could only mean one thing.

_A dragon!_

Gilderoy turned around, his back on the ground as he looked up at Dunstan. He was standing with his wand held high, the moon behind him and his silver eyes glowing in the darkness. He looked great and terrible at the same time, excitement and fear written plain across his face.

He looked down and grinned cockily at Gilderoy, "Am I lying now?"

* * *

**A/N: Leave a review to give me your thoughts. Interesting? Compelling or just boring?**


	3. The Dark of Night

They waited all night for the dragon to make an appearance, but all they heard were deep rumbles echoing from the cave. Dunstan's _Lumos_ wasn't enough to illuminate anything more than the mouth of the cave. They dare not venture any further for fear of the darkness and more importantly, the dragon. Gilderoy unfolded their tent for the night close enough to the ledge so they could see the opening that contained all of the crumbling bones and scorched earth.

Dunstan had not yet mentioned Gilderoy's claim that he fabricated the entire scenario. The claim was treasonous and Gilderoy winced at Dunstan's every movement. There was blood matted in his blonde hair, but for once, Gilderoy didn't care. He was more concerned with what Dunstan was thinking at the moment.

It hadn't been so ludicrous at the time to question Dunstan. Skinny and Bear Face had nothing to lose by lying to him although even that could've been a ploy to escape. Still, the revelation that, at the very least, _something_ was hiding in the cave meant something. It might not have been a dragon, but there was something worth defending in den.

"It's okay," Dunstan said as he sharpened his knife.

"What?" Gilderoy tried to sound bewildered, but he knew exactly what he meant.

Dunstan smiled to himself as if he read Gilderoy's exact thoughts, "I mean that it's okay you thought I was lying. It wouldn't be the first time someone thought I was."

This calmed Gilderoy down and he could see Dunstan having more than a few dishonest compatriots. Perhaps, he was easily forgiving Gilderoy for questioning him. Still, Dunstan was a proud man and even though he accepted an apology that Gilderoy didn't even utter, he wouldn't forget it anytime soon.

"I'm sorry," Gilderoy felt compelled to say, "I didn't…I just wasn't sure…"

The words trailed off from his lips, unable to form a coherent sentence. There were plenty of reasons to doubt Dunstan, but he didn't want to throw any more fuel on the fire. He had done enough by simply accusing him of dissembling.

Rising up and stowing his knife underneath his pillow, Dunstan said, "It's not the first time someone's called me a liar. Honestly, people have called me much worse things so don't kill yourself over it."

_Murderer. Rapist. Thief. Obliviator. Liar._

Gilderoy ran over a few other words that Dunstan had probably been called. All in all, it was a rather harmless list.

They slept that night, waiting for day when the dragon would be slumbering. The myth said the treasures would only be visible in the dark of night but Dunstan wanted to get a layout of the cave first. How deep it was. How high the ceilings were. _If_ there was a dragon in there at all.

The last part was the one that interested Gilderoy the most. He tossed and turn for most of the night and every time he looked over at Dunstan, the older man was asleep. Even after hours of ruminating the several ways he could die, Gilderoy was still awake, occasionally glancing at Dunstan. He slept for just three hours, having fitful nightmares of a dragon swallowing him whole.

He woke up and jumped as he saw Dunstan leaning over him.

"Jumpy?" Dunstan said with a mocking grin.

Gilderoy glared back at him, "Didn't sleep well."

Dunstan snickered, a low rumble that laughed at Gilderoy's skittishness. As Gilderoy dressed and prepared various materials to enter the cave, there was a feeling gnawing at his back, telling him not to enter. But what was the point in coming this far if he didn't try to get the treasure? He would grab his share of the treasure and then leave and never see Dunstan again. Yes, that would be Gilderoy's course of action. Dunstan slung his bag over his shoulder while Gilderoy stripped down everything he needed beside his wand.

"If it wakes up, aim for the eyes. Try and keep as much distance as you can. Depending on the size of the cave, it should be pretty hampered so if you can keep going around it, you should be able to avoid the fire of his breath," Dunstan handed out a few last command. Turning to Gilderoy, he stared at the younger man in the eyes, "You need to be able to act quickly, Gilderoy. No hesitation."

Gilderoy gulped and nodded, but he was far more fearful than he let on. He suspected Dunstan knew that and was grateful the man said no more. It was bad enough he had to entered a lair with a dragon of all things, but he was armed with nothing more than his wand and the man beside him. Yes, it could have been worse, but that notion didn't sooth his nerves for long.

The pair entered the cave, Dunstan in front of Gilderoy. His wand was raised high, but the _Lumos_ from his wand barely reached the ceiling. Any doubts that there wasn't a dragon in the cave were slowly being erased. They both had improvised handkerchiefs wrapped over their mouth and nose, blocking the decaying stench that prevailed within the cave. Around them were bones of humans, animals, and other creatures that Gilderoy couldn't identify.

"I suppose the legends are true," Gilderoy said in a mumbled voice beneath his handkerchief.

"Less talking," Dunstan grunted as he placed one hand on his silver dagger.

Gilderoy nodded and kept walking a few more paces, his eyes wary of the shadows dancing along the walls. Once or twice he jumped, but it was just his eyes playing tricks on him. He looked back and saw the light fading from the mouth of the cave. Soon it would just be the lone light of Dunstan's wand that kept them from darkness.

The ground sloped down and the air fell to a sudden chill around them. They were traveling deeper within the cave and Gilderoy could feel his hand shaking in fear. Or was it anticipation? He didn't know which feeling was presiding more over his body, but he wished his bones would stop rattling. There were less human and animal remains as they marched on, the bones appearing in fewer and fewer intervals.

Gilderoy looked back one more time and found nothing but the looming darkness staring back at him.

They walked on for what seemed like ages, but in reality, it was just a few minutes. Every step echoed in the enormous cavern and both of them had long lost sight of the ceiling. The air grew even colder, a chill that seeped through their skin and settled in their bones. All Gilderoy could see was the bobbing light at the end of Dunstan's wand and even the light seemed to be fading.

Gilderoy could feel the air shifting around. They had entered another cavern. He tried to look around but saw nothing but black. The pervading sense of doom heightened within and Gilderoy walked a bit quicker, his breath hurrying in the frigid air. Dunstan suddenly stopped and it was all Gilderoy could do to avoid clashing into him.

Dunstan swung the light around, illuminating his face and Gilderoy could see the scar along his cheek that ran parallel with his now longer beard. His silver eyes darted around, for once not as sure or confident as he usually was.

"Listen," Dunstan whispered.

Gilderoy tried to listen but all he could hear was the _drip, drip_ of water slipping through the crevices and the biting air whistling through the cave. As he waited and waited, he did start to hear something. It was soft, barely audible and rhythmic. Up and down. Up and down. He tried to figure out what it was and in a moment of clarity, he realized.

Breathing.

There was something breathing.

Judging by the sound, it wasn't something small. His heart started to pound, his palms growing sweaty even in the chill air. Dunstan slowly pointed his wand in a circular fashion, casting light where he could as he, too, looked for the source of the breathing. As he turned, he spotted an opening, a hole in the wall. He walked towards it slowly, examining the ground as he did. It was only when Gilderoy also looked at the ground that he found what Dunstan was looking at.

Dust. Soft grains of sand were being expelled in the same rhythmic fashion from the hole in the wall. It wasn't that large; barely enough for Dunstan to fit in, but it was large enough. Dunstan climbed through, his movements slow, and Gilderoy followed behind him. Emerging through the hole in the wall, they saw a light in the distance.

It was faint, dim, but unquestionably sunlight. The circular opening was about fifty feet above them and had to be no more than seven feet in diameter. Still, the lone source was calming to Gilderoy until he followed the path of the light.

At the bottom, bathed in the small but warm glow of the light, was the creature. It was pale, sickly almost, but the strong muscles rippling underneath the skin forsake any thought of weakness. Gilderoy was struck by the sheer size of the creature, dwarfing anything that he had ever seen, even in his Care of Magical Creatures books. The scales on its back protruded like jagged rocks and Gilderoy followed the trail to the dragon's head.

It was sleeping.

Gilderoy's heart was still hammering in his chest, but he was strangely calmed by the thought. Overcoming the shock of seeing the dragon, he looked around to see if there was any treasure but found nothing. The place must have truly been Charmed or Cursed to hide the treasure until the dark of night. Dunstan tapped him on the shoulder and jerked his head to indicate that they should head back through the hole in the wall.

Gilderoy followed him, relieved to be out of the same cavern as the dragon. They settled a far enough distance away from the hole in the wall so Gilderoy could light his wand as well. Dunstan carefully laid down the Bottomless Bag and his knife, taking great care not to make too much sound.

"What do we do?" Gilderoy asked in a scant whisper.

Dunstan's hand lingered on his knife and he looked up to stare through the hole in the wall at the sleeping dragon. His face was contemplative, a mixed bag of thoughtfulness and apprehension.

"We wait."

* * *

So they waited until the yellow light in the dragon's cavern disappeared. It was replaced by a reddish hue, meaning the sunset was visible from wherever the gap came from. Gilderoy mused that it was the other side of the large mountain but he had no way of knowing. The air was slightly warmer here, but the disappearance of the sun plunged it to uncomfortable temperatures. Only the thick wool coat he had the foresight to bring with him kept Gilderoy warm. Dunstan was impervious to the temperature, his special cloak with its intricate designs keeping him warm.

The plan was to wait until night fell so they could confirm there was treasure. Since there was none visible during the daylight, there was no point in killing the dragon for honor. Even though they had the element of surprise with the dragon asleep, there was no guarantee they could kill it. Their best shot was to steal away with the treasure as the sun and the moon turned, hoping the monstrous beast would still be asleep.

The last flicker of light disappeared from the dragon's cavern and the pair watched through the hole in the wall as it suddenly grew dark. They dare not raise a _Lumos_, fearful the dragon would see them and snuff them out via flame and fire. As the moon circled high in the air, the first lunar light crept through the cavern and what Gilderoy saw was the most amazing thing in his entire life.

Mountains, high as the ceiling of the cavern, of treasure were piled around the dragon. Gold, silver, jewels, and diamonds were all visible to the naked eye. The dragon's cavern lit up like a medley of fireworks, different hues bursting through the previous darkness. It was mesmerizing, the different glows, and Gilderoy could only imagine the sheer cost. It occurred to him that the treasure must have been collected over time. There was no way this much treasure was brought to the cave in one pass. But to what purpose? Why did people leave the treasure here with a dragon? Why cast a spell that made it only visible at night?

_I hope it doesn't disappear if you steal it_.

The fleeting thought jarred Gilderoy's reverie and he turned to Dunstan for instructions. Dunstan, for all his cool and composure, looked just as entranced by the volume of riches. There were so many! Rich was not the word he could describe himself even if he took a _fraction_ of the treasure.

Checking to see if the dragon was still asleep, Dunstan spoke when he was confident the beast was still slumbering, "There's a chain around the dragon's neck. It must be what keeps it in here. Go to it and cast the strongest Freezing Charm you can. I'll take as much treasure as I can. We only need a little bit to buy the whole stinking country."

It was true. The gold alone could have kept him alive for three lifetimes.

"What happens when the dragon tries to melt it?" Gilderoy worriedly asked.

"It'll buy us enough time to escape. Once the dragon wakes, run. Run as fast as you've ever run. Just remember, keep going up. All the slopes were downwards so if you keep going up, you're bound to reach the surface eventually. Are you ready?"

He was terrified. He was ready to shit his pants. He wanted nothing more than to run away and never return. Yet, a small bit of courage took hold of him and he replied, "I'm ready."

Dunstan nodded, slinging his bag around his shoulder and sheathing the knife. It would be useless against a dragon and he would need the spare hand to pinch some of the treasure. Gilderoy gulped, slowly crawling through the hole in the wall, keeping his eyes on the pale dragon at all times. It was still sleeping, it's nostrils flaring in rhythm with his breath. Though the room was still cold, Gilderoy felt like he was on fire, a combination of anxiety and fear spiking his temperature. His palms were sweaty and he was barely able to keep grip of his wand.

He shuffled sideways, not wanting to take his eyes off the winged ophidian for a second. There was a chain as Dunstan said and it extended through the mountain side. Gilderoy could only theorize what it was attached to and he hoped that the chain was connected to the actual mountain itself. That must be the reason the dragon could never leave. Either that or some other sorcery.

Gilderoy looked over at Dunstan and saw the older man was already busying himself by gently placing treasure in the Bottomless Bag. Gilderoy had to wait for his signal to use the Freezing Charm. He would take as much treasure as he could, then Gilderoy would cast the charm and they would both sprint like bats from hell.

He waited.

Waited.

_What's taking him so long?_ Gilderoy nervously thought as Dunstan continued to grab treasure. They had more than enough already. Had Gilderoy missed the sign? Was Dunstan going through one of his mad spells as he tried to take more and more gold? Just as Gilderoy was ready to panic and cast the charm prematurely, Dunstan held up one solitary finger, the universal sign for, "Wait."

Dunstan circled back to the hole in the wall, still gathering the last bits of treasure. He looked around and Gilderoy fought the urge to impatiently tap his foot. It was a bad habit of his and certain to wake the dragon up. Dunstan finally turned back and Gilderoy prepared the spell on his lips, ready to leave the dangerous place.

As he made eye contact with Dunstan, Gilderoy could sense something was amiss. It was his posture, the look in his eyes, the slant of his shoulders. Dunstan pursed his lips and Gilderoy had half a mind to yell, "What are you waiting for?"

That was when Dunstan turned and ran.

He climbed through the hole in the wall, not giving the signal, and for a moment, Gilderoy was stunned. What was he doing? Why was he leaving without giving the signal?

"Dunstan!" Gilderoy yelled in a hushed whisper, forgetting the beast for one treacherous second.

Gilderoy froze, every nerve and bone in his body wishing that the dragon. He was wishing that his lone moment of lunacy would not come back to haunt him. He was wishing that Dunstan would come back and give the signal so they could escape with the treasure.

Then the dragon woke.

It was as if Gilderoy watched it in slow motion. It's nostrils flared a bit more heavily and the ground started to rumble underneath its weight. The joints in the wings stretched, creaking and groaning. The strong muscles in the dragon's legs rippled as they unfolded from beneath it. It rose, powerful and terrible, from it's deep sleep and looked around, not noticing Gilderoy for the moment.

Gilderoy was gob smacked, unable to move in the face of the dragon. Like some joke from the universe, the dragon didn't even notice him, still adapting to its surroundings. Gilderoy stayed still, hoping a futile hope that the dragon would go back to sleep and never see him.

He wasn't that lucky.

It peered at him, questioningly as if he was asking, _what are you doing here?_ Gilderoy wondered the same thing, guessing that Dunstan was already halfway out of the cave at this point. This was it. He would die like so many others in this large cavern of treasure. In the dark of night, the dragon would eat him alive, no doubt starving after such a long sleep.

The dragon opened it's mouth and roared, the sound popping Gilderoy's ear drums from the proximity. He vaguely recalled shooting a spell in the air, but he ducked as the fumes of gas ignited and lit the room ablaze. Gilderoy was stumbling, shooting random spells as he remembered the one piece of advice from Dunstan, the bastard. He ran in a circle, falling as the treasure tumbled around him. Once or twice he avoided the swinging tail and a stomping foot of the dragon. A searing pain on his back told him that the fire had caught a part of his cloak, but for once, Gilderoy didn't ruminate and stop.

He ran.

He threw himself into the hole in the wall, his elbows banging against the stone slabs as the dragon just missed him. Racing to his feet, he cast a _Lumos_ and sprinted forward, always going up. Go up. Go up. Gilderoy could hear the dragon storming through the other capillaries of the cave, no doubt more familiar with its layout. Upwards he ran, always going up as the cave rumbled around him. He briefly wondered if that's what it would be like the dragon's belly. Would it laugh as the stomach acid devoured him?

He kept falling, his knees and hands bloody from his several tumbles, but he kept going, refusing to look back. Rounding another stretch, his heart leaped in victory as he spotted the opening. The moonlight showed his path and he was never more glad to see the crumbling bones at the entrance of the cave. He started into his run again, but the wall to his right suddenly exploded in a brilliant shower of boulders and shattered rock.

The pale dragon stepped through, crouched in the low ceiling. It's eyes were red and furious, glaring as it finally caught it's prey. It was blocking the way out and there were no other exits for Gilderoy. He had to either kill the dragon or die and he was quite sure which outcome was more likely.

_Damn you, Dunstan Wilkinson! Damn you to hell!_

He cowered in the face of the dragon, falling to his knees in hopelessness. The dragon growled and hissed and Gilderoy accepted his fate. He was dumb. He was foolish for thinking he could steal from a dragon. He could only hope that it would take mercy on him and kill him quickly.

The dragon opened its mouth, ready to deliver the final blow but it jerked forward and roared. Gilderoy watched as another spell struck it's back. Then another spell. Then a shower of sharp projectiles tumbled through the air and embedded in the dragon's hide. He looked to the source of the attacks and found a tall man with silver eyes.

Dunstan came back for him.

"_GILDEROY! RUN!_" Dunstan bellowed as he fired another spell at the dragon.

As Gilderoy stumbled to his feet, he realized the marked difference between Dunstan and himself. He had fallen to his knees, a coward ready to accept defeat. Dunstan, for all his dishonesty and implied malevolence, stood tall in the face of the dragon, striking it's eyes and other weaknesses. Gilderoy ducked between the dragon's legs, scampering his way out as Dunstan continued to hold it off. As he passed the older man, Gilderoy grabbed a handful of his robes to pull him away.

They retreated, Gilderoy running and Dunstan firing back. The dragon regained its senses and finally turned around and opened his mouth with an earthshaking roar. Jets of fire flew from its mouth and Gilderoy and Dunstan just managed to duck behind a melting rock to avoid any serious burns. They kept running, escaping to the mouth of the cave. Dunstan pointed his wand upwards and yelled another indistinguishable spell. The ceiling started to shake and rocks came tumbling down.

_Genius_, Gilderoy thought as the blockade started forming. By the time the dragon could reach the dam of rocks, it's fiery breath was no match for the impediment. Gilderoy fell among the crumpled bones, laughing gleefully and throwing his hands into the air. Rain fell down on him, a cool offering from the inferno of the dragon's fire. He was mildly aware of several intermediate injuries on his body, but he didn't care. They were alive _and_ they had the treasure.

"We did it," Gilderoy gasped and laughed again.

Dunstan chuckled, hands on his knees as he bent over to catch his breath. "I thought you were a goner."

Gilderoy threw a stray rock at him but it sailed far wide, "You bastard! Why'd you run?"

Dunstan shrugged, ever uncaring, "It was a good plan at the time, but I couldn't leave you in there."

In the moment, Gilderoy overlooked the obvious attempt to leave him behind. He was too giddy, rejuvenated with life to logically think of what Dunstan had done. Gilderoy slowly clambered to his feet, the stickiness of the rain finally growing uncomfortable. He approached Dunstan and saw the older man heft the Bottomless Bag on his shoulder.

"Plenty enough for both of us," Gilderoy said, still drunk with excitement and the prospect of fame and fortune.

Yet, he noticed the slight wince from Dunstan. The rain kept pouring and Dunstan didn't come any closer with the bag of treasures. He stood aloof and turned to him with a resigned look on his face.

"Sorry, Gilderoy. I think I'm just going to keep it all."

Gilderoy was confused and the adrenaline high started to wear off. He was aware of the wand in his hand and the cool stickiness of the rain. He was aware of the burn on his back and the scrapes on his limbs. He was aware of the weary look on Dunstan's face.

"We split it," Gilderoy said, "That's what we agreed upon."

Dunstan shrugged, his silver eyes gleaming in the moonlight, "I changed my mind."

Gilderoy gaped, a small voice in his head saying that he should have seen this coming. Why was he so surprised? Why was he so hurt? Why did he feel so…_betrayed_?

"Wh - wh - why?" Gilderoy stuttered.

An ungainly sneer appeared on Dunstan's face. He looked down at Gilderoy in disdain, "Don't tell me you didn't see this coming? Haven't you figured it out already?"

Gilderoy was either too frazzled by the dragon attack or simply not smart enough to figure it out. He repeated his question. "Why?"

Dunstan threw his arms in the air as thunder clapped overhead. "You're an idiot, you know that? I already knew that from the minute I marked you at the bar. You were just some spoiled kid looking for an adventure. Merlin, the farther we went, the more I realized just how incredibly stupid you were. What kind of person would _stay_ after what I did to that poor family? Are you just that thick?"

The harshness in his tone tore through Gilderoy. The implication that he had been set up from the beginning shredded his confidence and any hope that Dunstan was simply playing one of his games. Had it been that way the whole time? Had Dunstan just…_used_ him to get to the treasure?

"Why did you even need me?" Gilderoy cried, ashamed he was so hurt.

"There had to be someone that distracted the dragon," Dunstan scoffed, "I didn't realize how good of a job you would do until you got down there. I thought I might have had to convince you, but you were so gullible. You bought every story I told."

"Wh - what? Your stories? They weren't true?" Gilderoy bewilderedly asked as another thunderclap roared overhead.

Dunstan grinned, the smile looking malicious against the lightning tearing through the sky. "Some of it was true. Some of it were lies. People will buy anything if you've got a good story, Gilderoy. I just didn't think you'd be dumb enough to buy all of it and keep going."

Despair and hope were the two prevalent depressions within Gilderoy. He didn't admit it, but he had looked up to Dunstan. Dunstan was his inspiration that there was adventure and glory to life. He was living evidence that Gilderoy could become famous for all these deeds that he couldn't accomplish by himself. He was…he was supposed to be a friend.

"Merlin, you're pathetic," Dunstan rolled his eyes as he took out his wand.

Eyeing the wand, Gilderoy yelled, "Why didn't you just let me die down there then?" He was still clinging to some false hope that Dunstan was lying. Lying as he'd lied about everything else.

Dunstan shrugged, "Even bastards and monsters feel bad. You're an idiot, but you did help me get the treasure."

Gilderoy gaped, looking down and tucking his chin in as the rain soaked through his clothes. There was nothing he could do. It had been a set-up from the very beginning. All the musings of fame and glory was nothing but a sham. Was any of it true?

"My father," Dunstan said through the storm as he if he read Gilderoy's mind, "The story about my father was true."

The little pittance didn't console Gilderoy. Dunstan looked at him in angry pity, shaking his head at the blonde.

"Don't worry, you won't remember any of this," Dunstan said as he raised his wand.

_I'll always remember._

Gilderoy acted faster, shooting off the spell as the lightning screamed overhead and the thunder boomed along the mountain.

"_**OBLIVIATE!**__"_

* * *

Gilderoy walked into the bar, his eyes scanning the crowd. He spotted his target and brandished a sickeningly wide smile on his face. He made an attempt to casually sit down next to the haggard looking local. He was lean and had scars along his shoulders and one along his face. Gilderoy's eyes lingered on the scar on his face for a moment before initiating a conversation.

"Two of your finest ales. Send one to this chap!" Gilderoy called out to the bartender.

The man looked at him through drunk, squinted eyes. His face was haunted as if he had seen several lifetimes of terror. The rings around his eyes did nothing to disprove that fact.

"Whudda ya want?" He gargled in his local slang.

Gilderoy offered his hand forwards, "Can't I just buy a friend a drink?"

The man looked confused. "I'm not your friend."

"Not yet."

Gilderoy smiled as he made a casual show of flipping a Galleon at the bartender. He watched the other man's eyes grow wide at the blatant display of fiscal recklessness. Gilderoy smiled inwardly, knowing he was close to reeling in another great story.

"What if I told you, in the dark of night, there were ghouls that haunted this town?" Gilderoy leaned in to whisper conspiratorially.

The man scoffed, "I already know about them ghouls and I was the one that killed 'em."

"Oh really?" Gilderoy feigned shock, already knowing this was the man that dispatched them, "Do you care to show?"

The man squinted at them, wobbling in his stool as he considered his options. He looked at the Galleon Gilderoy flipped towards the bartender. He looked at the ornate cloak that looked like it had stitching from some Eastern country. He looked at the gleaming knife on Gilderoy's waist.

The man shrugged, apparently ambivalent to the decision, "Sure. Why not? What's your name?"

Gilderoy grinned, his teeth flashing even in the dim light of the pub, "My name's Sir Dunstan Wilkinson and I'm going to make you rich and famous beyond measure."

* * *

**A/N: I've always been fascinated with various backstories that JKR never explained. What do you think? A believable account of Gilderoy Lockhart? Reviews are always welcome.**


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